I let out a surprised and mildly annoyed grunt as I’m awakened by the feel of someone crawling over me — though the grunt quickly turns into a low moan of satisfaction as I feel a pair of breasts in a sports bra threaten to smother my face.

“Sorry babe, did I wake you?” Leanne asks, barely suppressing a giggle. “I just need to check my phone, see if I’m needed actually IN the office today.”

“There IS a nightstand on the other side of the bed,” I remind my girlfriend, who responds by just leaning more of her weight on my head — something I, obviously, have no problem with!

“But no outlet to charge the phone,” Leanne retorts, before rolling back onto her side of the bed with a smile on her face. “And it looks like I’m working from home today, so- yeah. No need to get up for a while, heh. No need for ME to get up, anyway….”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I chuckle, leaning forward only to flop back down again with a grin on my face. “…But I’m studying from home today as well, hehe!”

“Good,” Leanne says, giving me a gentle kiss as we snuggle back together under my sheets. “I’d forgotten how nice this- well, THIS- is during lockdown, heh.”

“Me too,” I whisper as I close my eyes and allow myself to relax.

Of course, lockdown hasn’t actually ended yet — covid is still running rampant in the UK, especially in London — but circumstances have changed just enough to make life just that little more bearable. I’ve been able to play on my mental health issues to get Leanne declared as part of my ‘bubble’ (and Dr Phillips has promised to write me a note to that effect if we’re ever questioned about it), meaning that she can stay overnight at my home and vice versa, and this is something we’ve not hesitated to take advantage of.

Of course, actual ‘dates’ are still somewhat ‘restricted’ by covid legislation, but we’ve made do where we can. We regularly go out for lunch, finding food stands (like our first ‘proper date’ back in October), and with summer just around the corner we’re looking forward to more ‘enforced al fresco’ dinner dates too. Mostly, though, we’ve stayed around the flat, watching TV, occasionally playing videogames and simply enjoying the opportunity to finally spend time together. What’s struck me the most, though, is how comfortable we both are when it’s still and quiet. When I was with Chloe, or even with Ella, it always felt like there was pressure to ‘do something’ to fill the time we spent with each other. With Leanne, it seems like we’re both happiest when we’re relaxed together doing absolutely nothing. My friend Nikki has said that you know you’ve found a keeper when you can spend hours together in total silence and not get bored of each other’s company- and that’s exactly how it feels with Leanne.

Also, the fact that she seems to enjoy sex with me (and I certainly enjoy it with her) certainly helps!

For the first time in a long while, life is starting to- well, not ‘get back to normal,’ but get to a position where I wake up and actually look forward to the day ahead. Sure, university work is still tough, both in terms of how taxing it is and how much of it there is, and I still haven’t made any friends from my new year group (thanks mostly to lockdown). After summer, though, I’ll only have one year remaining, and my tutors still believe I’m on course for an upper second-class honours degree. Right now, life is good, and as selfish as it sounds, I almost hope that lockdown never ends.

…Though I’m reminded of the main reason for that a few moments after Leanne’s ‘crawl’ when my phone pings a new Facebook notification, which my tired eyes only half make out — ‘...liked Chloe Barnard's photo.’ Obviously, I quickly delete the notification — I’m not so stupid as to look at a photo of my ex-girlfriend while in bed with my current girlfriend, after all — but it’s still a reminder that while I've made gains, they only seem to come after I've suffered major losses. And a reminder that the main reason — or at least, one of the main reasons — that I’m in bed with Leanne is because that was what was chosen for me on my birthday.

Logically, I know that Leanne is a much better girlfriend for me than Chloe. She doesn’t have the ego or the temper that Chloe had — or at least, not that I've seen — she’s tolerant and patient whenever I’m having an ‘issue’ and she loves simply spending time in my company. And yet, the fact is that I didn’t choose Leanne over Chloe — I didn’t even get the chance to. My friends made that choice for me, just as my family had chosen my life all throughout my childhood.

And of course, I consciously know that unlike my family, my friends have only my best interests at heart. They’ve shown me nothing but love and support through all of my ‘issues.’ But they don’t know what’s going on in my head at all times. They can’t know that, after all. And they certainly don’t know how much I adored Chloe. She was funny, cute, bubbly… and I don’t know whether or not I love Leanne more than her. There’s a part of me, a large part of me that hopes I do. But there’s still that voice in the back of my head that wants to rebel, to go against the decision that was forced upon me and go back to Chloe, no matter how much stress it might cause me….

“Hmm?” Leanne grunts as she’s shaken awake by the sound of our front door closing. “Is that Lee heading out?”

“Either that or a burglar,” I mumble into my pillow, smirking as the blonde woman gives me a playful shove.

“Unlikely at 8:15am,” Leanne retorts, sighing as she throws the covers back and gets out of bed, stretching her lithe body (much to my obvious delight) and untying her 'sleeping ponytail' letting her long blonde hair hand loose. “Does Lee normally shower every day? Don’t want to run out of hot water mid-shower…”

“Hope you’re not implying that you’re going to use it all up and that I need a cold shower,” I say, smirking as my girlfriend giggles. “Though if you’re implying that we’ve only got enough for one shower and we’ll have to share…” I giggle as Leanne blushes, before grinning devilishly.

“We have to do SOMETHING to try to stop climate change,” Leanne retorts, smirking as I chase her out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, pausing only as I drop my shorts.

Obviously, given how ‘intimate’ Leanne and I have been lately, I’m confident that she doesn’t have a problem with my ‘alternative equipment.’ The same, however, can’t really be said of me. Every time I strip naked, I’m reminded that I’m different from other guys — even from Stuart. There’s a small but loud voice at the back of my mind reminding me that I’m a ‘fraud.’ That my name isn’t really ‘Ian,’ I’m not really a man and I never will be no matter how much I chop and change my ‘chemistry’ and my body parts. Even as I look at myself in the bathroom mirror, at my messy (but finally cut now that barbers have reopened, thank god) blond (but not blonde) hair, at the wispy hairs growing on my chest or at the stubble on my face, there’s a part of me that’ll always believe that what I’m looking at is just a mask.

Of course, I know that this is something all trans people go through — not just ‘guys like me.’ Stuart’s said so, Jamie and Nikki have said so and Dr Phillips has reiterated the point to me countless times. However, there’s only so much comfort that can be taken from knowing I’m not alone.

What is comforting, though, is the sight of Leanne thinking nothing of stripping naked herself once we reach the bathroom and wasting no time in dragging me into the shower with her. Unlike Chloe, or even Ella — both of whom openly expressed interest in ‘exploring their sexuality’ — Leanne is someone who only identifies as fully heterosexual. And if she has no problem with seeing me as 171cm of ‘delicious man flesh,’ then who am I to argue?

The two of us emerge from the shower a few minutes later having washed away our sweat (including the sweat we 'generated' while in the shower), returning to my bedroom where I pull on my customary t-shirt and jeans while Leanne takes a little more time to prepare, applying a light layer of make-up before pulling a smart white blouse and a similar pair of jeans to mine out of the drawer I cleared for her when she first stayed over. Leanne finishes her look by tying her hair back into a tight, professional-looking ponytail — something I can't help but comment on.

"Love the ponytail, very 'Seven of Nine,' " I chuckle, earning a snort of laughter from the blonde woman. “Have you got Zoom meetings today, then?”

“Most of the day,” Leanne replies with a sigh. “You?”

“Just a group session first thing, then coursework all day,” I reply. “The amount of stuff I still have to do is a real pain, especially the coding. And this is still only my second year! I’m dreading next year when I have to do my dissertation…” Naturally, this prompts my girlfriend to rise from her seat and wrap her arms around me- a gesture I’m deeply grateful for.

“You’re gonna do great,” my girlfriend says softly. “This year AND next. I know that for a fact.”

“Thanks,” I say, exchanging a gentle kiss with Leanne as she heads into the living room while I remain in my bedroom, combing my hair before booting up my laptop and logging onto the university’s intranet. Before I do, though — and once Leanne is out of sight — I draw my attention back to my phone and the notification I received earlier. I sigh as I open up Facebook and look at Chloe’s latest photo which, much to my surprise, is a cosplay photo — something she hasn’t uploaded in some time, largely thanks to the pandemic. She’s obviously spent the time productively, though, as in the photo she’s wearing a very elaborate Poison Ivy costume, consisting of a tight, textured green leotard, green tights and high-heeled boots and long gloves with pointed fingertips. Her face is thickly made-up and her flame-coloured hair is almost down to her waist (having clearly not had the chance to cut it all throughout lockdown). A glance at the caption reveals that the costume was for a virtual Comic-Con this weekend just gone, but that’s hardly important — what is important, to me, at least, is just how hot she looks. Am I really that shallow? Am I really THAT much like my mother?

I’m grateful when my classes finally start and distract me from the photo of my ex, which I hastily close, before deleting my browsing history and sitting down and focussing on the lesson. During quiet points of the lesson, though, I can hear Leanne’s voice coming from the living room, and the all too familiar feeling of guilt comes washing over me, just as it did during every day of my childhood. I know I should only be interested in Leanne. She’s kind, sensitive, empathetic and every bit as beautiful as Chloe. Even if she’s never cosplayed as anything other than a Canadian rugby player…

As the morning drags on, I focus on my work — or at least, I try to, a task not made any easier by Chloe's sudden 'interruption' to my life. Eventually, my head is almost spinning with all the extra information I’ve tried to take on, not to mention all the extra additions and change to my coursework, and it comes as a blessed relief when the class is told to break for lunch. I take a deep breath as I head through to the living room, involuntarily grinning as my girlfriend smiles at me while listening to her work call.

“I’ve ordered us some lunch,” Leanne whispers, covering her mouth with her hand so her bosses don’t realise she’s talking to me. “Will Subway be okay?”

“Perfect, thanks,” I reply, smiling as I instinctively know that Leanne will have ordered my favourite Italian BMT. Naturally, this then leads to yet another feeling of guilt — not only did Chloe not know my favourite foods in all the time we went out with each other, she almost certainly wouldn’t have approved of me having pepperoni breath. Much like mum would never have approved of ‘Kayleigh-Ann’ eating meat, or worse yet, fast food in the first place….

“Do you- umm, do you want a drink?” I ask, smiling and nodding as my girlfriend mouths the word ‘coffee’ at me. Almost on autopilot, I head into the kitchen and brew up a mug of Leanne’s favourite gourmet coffee, adding in just the right amount of cold milk and brown sugar — and I can't help but smile at how I know Leanne's favourite coffee order just as well as she knows my favourite Subway. The smile stays on my face as I hand my girlfriend her drink before sitting down on the sofa and trying to unscramble my head following the morning's events. However, this lasts for less than a minute before Leanne breaks the silence.

“Sorry about that, babe,” Leanne says with an apologetic sigh. “Covid rules changing every day means we can barely keep up with accounts sometimes, heh.”

“It’s okay,” I say. “Not like I haven’t been busy myself this morning, heh.”

“Still feeling a little overwhelmed?” My girlfriend asks softly.

“…A bit,” I reply, mentally adding ‘and not just by the work’ as I remember my ex-girlfriend’s Facebook post.

“Summer’s only a few weeks away,” Leanne says with a shrug. “Even if there are SOME covid restrictions we’ll still be able to get away somewhere, forget all about work, college and- well, like, other stressors….” My eyes momentarily go wide as Leanne says ‘other stressors,’ panicking that she might somehow know about Chloe's photo. Perfect, I think to myself. Now I’m getting paranoid, too….

“Do you- do you have any ideas?” I ask. “Of, like, where we could go?”

“Canada’s probably not happening anytime soon,” Leanne mumbles, her face falling until I wrap a comforting arm around her shoulder — I know she’s been increasingly homesick as of late. “We could, you know, go to Cardiff for a few days, you could show me around, maybe?”

“Umm- ah…” I stammer as my girlfriend looks at me confusedly.

“You’re not homesick for Wales?” Leanne asks.

“Well- maybe a little,” I reply with a shrug. “I miss my grandmother, and my friends from college, but- not really. I mean, I lived in London from, like, when I was a toddler until I was sixteen, only went back to Cardiff for two years, so- yeah. London’s more my home than Cardiff, really. Plus, Cardiff is where my ex- umm, where my, umm, mother lives.” I bite my lip as Leanne frowns at my ‘slip.’ “…And my ex. When she’s not studying in London herself, anyway.”

“Chloe?” Leanne asks with a whisper, her bottom lip starting to wobble. Leanne’s always been somewhat insecure about my exes, especially when it comes to comparing their looks with hers. She even gets nervous whenever I look at one of Laura’s social media posts, even though our ‘relationship’ was measurable in minutes and we’ve both long since agreed that we’re better as platonic friends and have both since moved on to new relationships. And even though a part of me feels like Leanne is a hypocrite — she still follows her professional ice hockey player ex-boyfriend on social media — I can’t help but wonder if she’s somehow picked up on my continued interest in Chloe’s life.

“…Who is part of why I’d rather stay in London,” I reassert. “Seriously.”

“Okay,” Leanne whispers, smiling at me as she sips her coffee. “I- I’m sorry, I get that obviously you have exes, it’s just- I dunno. Part of dating a male supermodel, heh!”

“Ex-supermodel,” I correct my girlfriend, who giggles at my insistence. “Reluctant supermodel. Barely ‘super’ model at all. And you’re the only girl I want to be with. Honestly.” As I know for damn sure I don’t want to ‘be with’ Chloe at all. As hard as it is to stop thinking about her….

“Okay,” Leanne says again, jumping up to answer the door as our driver arrives with our lunch.

Thankfully, the topic of my exes doesn’t come up again for the rest of lunch, and before long, we’re both hard at work yet again — or in my case, hard at study. Despite my best efforts, though, I can’t help but check Chloe’s Facebook page yet again. She hasn’t posted any updates since the morning, meaning her ‘Poison Ivy’ photo still takes pride of place on her timeline — and has received several dozen likes as well (though none from me or anyone I know, of course). While taking a quick breather from my reading, and remembering what I thought about at lunch, I briefly check out Laura’s Facebook page, rolling my eyes when I see the photo she's posted to the top of her timeline.

‘So happy to be back in real life class xxx’ reads the caption to Laura’s photo, which is of her, her friend Suri and a few other girls wearing the pink tights, shiny pointe shoes and skin-tight (and in Laura’s case, very skimpy) black leotards that comprise the uniform of a ballet class- a uniform that, despite my best efforts, I am all too familiar with. All I can think about as I glance at the photo, though, is how two of my exes (okay, Laura may be stretching the definition of ‘ex’ a bit but I’m counting her) have, within the last 24 hours, posted photos of them wearing skin-tight lycra, while in the living room, Leanne is dressed almost identically to me.

Obviously, I know that this thought makes me a massive hypocrite. I spent sixteen years having my dress sense forced on me, whether it was the short skirts I wore to school, the tight shorts I wore at home, the ridiculous dresses I had to wear whenever my thankfully deceased paternal grandmother visited or, indeed, the same uniform that Laura and her friends wore in her latest photo. I know Leanne is comfortable in her clothing choices, I know it doesn’t make her any less feminine to wear jeans or not show any skin, and I know that in the past she’s worn skirts or dresses for my benefit, even when she really didn’t want to. But for my entire childhood, I had it drilled into me exactly what feminine is and what it should be — or rather, what I should be. In my desperation to escape femininity, am I projecting an unfair image onto every woman I know? Or it just the ones I care about? I mean, it’s not like Leanne is in any way butch, or masculine — even if she did play rugby when she lived in Canada….

After making a mental note to discuss this with Doctor Phillips next time I speak to her (which, annoyingly, won’t be for another six days), I get back to my work, hoping that by immersing myself in it, I’ll ironically distract myself from the distractions that have been plaguing my thoughts all day. It obviously works, as I get so engrossed by the coding my latest 3D model that I'm actually surprised to hear the front door open and close, followed by a deep Welsh voice and a gentle Canadian voice greeting each other. Taking this as my cue, I save my work and head out into the living room, where Lee is busy unpacking the equipment he took with him to university while Leanne types up (what I assume is) a report.

“Afternoon mate,” Lee says, barely looking up from his tools. “Good day quote-unquote 'at' uni?”

“I hope you sanitised all of those,” I retort, gesturing to my friend’s equipment.

“I’m the only person who’s EVER touched these,” Lee hits back.

“Exactly,” I say, earning an eye roll from my best friend and a snort of laughter from my girlfriend.

“Boys…” Leanne says with a mock sigh between her chuckles. “What’s for dinner?”

“Depends on what Chef Freeman makes,” Lee replies, smirking as I roll my eyes. “Unless we’re having a Deliveroo again?”

“We had delivery for lunch,” I reply, before realising I've implicitly volunteered to make tonight's dinner. “…I’ll see what’s in the freezer.”

“Good man,” Lee says. “You got band practice tonight?”

“Umm, nope,” I reply. “Not while our rhythm guitarist is busy dealing with adoption agencies, anyway.”

“Aww, that’s cute,” Leanne says with a smile. “So will little Olivia be getting a baby brother or sister?”

“I don’t think Stuart or Jamie know for sure yet,” I reply. “But I think they’re both actually hoping for a boy this time.”

“SO cute,” Leanne says, flashing a happy smile in my direction before looking away and blushing — could she really already be thinking about starting a family with me?

“…So, it looks like it’s a PS5 night tonight,” I say as I pull a handful of ready meals out of the freezer and start microwaving them.

“Or in my case, a ‘call my parents’ night,” Leanne — who’s never been an avid gamer — retorts.

“Lee?” I ask expectantly.

“Promised I’d call Sarah’s brother tonight,” my best friend replies, making me frown with confusion.

“…Who’s Sarah?” I ask, earning a frown from my friend.

“Umm… Nikki’s wife?” Lee replies as I bite my lip and try not to blush. “You know, the woman who’s done a crap-ton for you over the years, who-“

“Yes- yes, I remember now,” I say, mentally kicking myself. Am I that distracted by my own issues that I forgot who Sarah was? “Didn’t even know Sarah HAD a brother.”

“Yep,” Lee replies. “Apparently, he’s eighteen and starting at Brunel University in September. And even though he’s studying aerodynamic engineering instead of robotic engineering, Nikki thought ‘close enough’ and gave me a call, asking if I could, like, give him a few pointers on what to expect. Apparently, he wants to design Formula One cars when he graduates.”

“Cool,” I mumble as I try to reorder my thoughts, kicking myself yet again that somehow, I completely forgot who one of my closest friends was. Okay, it’s been over a year since I last saw her in the flesh, and I’ve had a lot on my plate in the meantime, with work, uni, Leanne — Chloe… It’s still no excuse, though.

My anxiety must be obvious, as the next thing I’m aware of is my girlfriend wrapping an arm around my waist and smiling while looking at me with her deep blue eyes.

“Hey,” Leanne whispers. “You okay?”

“Sure,” I reply with a shrug, before sighing. “…I can’t believe I asked ‘Who’s Sarah?’. If that ever gets back to her, I doubt I’ll be able to show my face around her or Nikki again, heh.”

“Meh, I won’t tell,” Leanne says with a giggle, before a look of concern spreads across her face. “Seriously, though, are- are you okay?”

“Again, sure,” I say, before sighing. “I- I’m probably just a bit distracted, I dunno.”

“You’ve basically been locked indoors for twelve months,” Leanne whispers softly. “That’d ‘distract’ anyone, especially with all the pressure of uni on you as well. How about, after dinner, we go for a walk somewhere? There’s still loads of London I haven’t seen.”

“Umm, okay?” I reply, unsure about Leanne’s suggestion. “I mean, places are still closed, it’s not like there’s anywhere we can walk TO, unless you want a guided tour of the back streets of Islington.”

“I wouldn’t, trust me on that,” Lee interjects.

“Well, we can still go SOMEWHERE,” Leanne retorts. “I- I dunno. I think if I stare at a screen for another second, I’m going to-“ I try not to frown as Leanne bites her lip — her next words were obviously going to be ‘go crazy,’ something she (correctly) feels I don’t need a reminder of. Even with how long we’ve been seeing each other, she still feels the need to tiptoe around my ‘issues’….

“…I can always put this back in the freezer,” I say, gesturing to the meal I was about to cook and smiling to reassure Leanne I’m not offended by what she was about to say. “I can message Nikki, see if she and Sarah can recommend any new street food places nearby?”

“Sounds perfect,” Leanne says with a smile. “Better than hearing you two argue about this so-called ‘Super League’ for the second evening in a row.”

“Okay, okay, I know when I’m being a third wheel,” Lee says with a snort of laughter. “Leave the food out, I’ll finish off my own meal and put the rest away.”

“Don’t let it thaw,” Leanne cautions as she heads into the bedroom while I message Nikki, smirking and sighing as I see her new profile photo of her and Sarah stood against the backdrop of a small lake.

It doesn’t take Nikki long to respond with the details of a new vegan food truck less than a mile from our flat, and a short while later Leanne and I have put on our shoes and coats and are heading in that direction, enjoying the feel of the crisp Spring air on our faces and the feel of her hand in mine. We don’t exchange any words en route to the vendor, but in a way, we don’t need to — merely being in each other’s presence is enough to make me happy, and more than enough to help me keep my mind off of all my stresses — especially Chloe. By the time we arrive, both of us have wide smiles on our faces, and my stomach is growling in anticipation of the meal.

“I’ll pay,” Leanne insists, placing her hand on my chest as we arrive at the truck.

“Umm- I don’t mind going halves-“ I try to retort, only for my girlfriend to shush me.

“It was my idea to eat out,” Leanne reminds me. “Seriously, I don’t mind. Can you find us somewhere to sit?”

“Sure,” I reply, exchanging a smile with the blonde woman as I sit down on a nearby wall. While Leanne waits in the queue, I get out my phone and start scrolling through my social media apps — though I take care not to look at any of Chloe’s, recognising that it’s probably best not to look at photos of my ex-girlfriend while on a dinner date with my current girlfriend.

…Though that doesn’t stop my eyes from bulging when the same photo from earlier today- of Chloe dressed as Poison Ivy- reappears on my Facebook timeline. I immediately feel my chest tighten as I wonder how this happened- did I accidentally re-friend her? Before I can answer my question, though, my anxiety intensifies when I feel a presence over my shoulder.

“Who- is- is that- is that a photo of Chloe?” Leanne asks, almost shivering as she stares at my phone.

“It- umm, I-“ I stammer. “It- it’s not what it looks like…” Oh good, you phrased it THAT way, I think to myself.

“I- umm, I- I wanted to know what drink you wanted,” Leanne mumbles, clearly holding back tears. “But I- umm, I’m- I’m not hungry, I think I’m going to go- go home, like, to my- my aunt and uncle’s house….”

“L- Leanne, wait, please,” I say, barely holding back tears of my own as I get up to follow her.

“I- I need some time to myself, Ian,” Leanne insists. “I need to know what I really want. And so do you, apparently. I- don’t- don’t call or text me, please.”

“Leanne, please…” I whine, biting my lip as the other diners all regard me with angry, judgemental stares — to them, I’m just another scumbag guy who’s done wrong by his girlfriend. I wonder whether their opinion of me would get better or worse if they learned the ‘truth’ about me….

My head spins as I walk away from the street vendor, wondering just how exactly such a wonderful relationship could've disintegrated so quickly — though I'm quickly forced to concede that I have no one to blame but myself. Leanne, despite her intelligence, despite her kindness, despite her incredible looks, even, has always been insecure. All she wants is someone to be kind to her, to treat her like she's the only girl in the world who matters. Her previous boyfriend had turned out to be a scumbag... and so, it turns out, has her most recent boyfriend.

Knowing that chasing Leanne all the way back to her aunt and uncle’s house would only make a calamitous situation even worse, I head to the nearest tube station almost in a daze, wondering how what should’ve been a dinner date went so badly — and how Chloe’s photo even showed up on my page in the first place.

The second question, fortunately, is easy to answer — though it only raises more questions when I read the full notification and see the words ‘liked by Laura Ruddock’ below it. While I know that they’re acquainted through me, I didn’t even know that Laura and Chloe were friends — or at the very least, Facebook friends. Especially as I also know that Laura doesn’t read comic books and has never seen a Batman film either. With my head still spinning, I fire off a message to Laura asking if we could speak later before putting my phone back in my pocket and not checking for any replies as my train reaches my stop. The next thing I know, I’m walking through my front door, and dreading the conversation I’m about to have next.

“That was quick,” Lee muses, not looking up from his own dinner as I walk through the living room. “Did the place Nikki recommended turn out to be shit?”

“Umm, no…” I mumble, still in a daze from what’s happened. “Is- did Leanne here? Come back, I mean?”

“Isn’t she with you?” Lee asks, unknowingly bringing tears to my eyes. “…Ian? Mate?”

“Yeah, that- that’s a bit of a- umm, question…” I mumble as my best friend sighs, gets out of his chair and sits me down on the sofa. “I- I’ve really fucked up this time…”

“Take your time,” Lee says with a quiet sigh — not that I can blame him, given the amount of support he’s had to give me over the years.

“We- umm, I was waiting while Leanne was getting our food,” I say. “I’d opened up Facebook, and I- I was looking at a photo of Chloe.” The grimace and much louder sigh of my friend lets me know that he definitely agreed with me when I said 'fucked up.'

“The photo of her in a Poison Ivy costume?” Lee asks, sighing again as I nod. “That came as bit of a surprise to me when it popped onto my feed too. But why were you even looking at it?”

“I- I wasn’t, it was jus- hang on, why was it even on YOUR feed?” I ask confusedly.

“We- we’re not talking about ME here, we’re talking about you,” Lee defensively retorts. “Have you added Chloe on Facebook again?”

“No, I haven’t,” I truthfully reply. “Have you?”

“Well- no,” Lee says. “If you must know, I only saw it because Laura had liked the photo. Took me a while to realise that it was even Chloe, she was wearing that much make-up.”

“Yeah, same he- hang on, you mean you’re friends with Laura too?” I ask.

“Sure,” Lee replies with a shrug. “It was just after your- ah, umm, never mind, we’ve been- we’ve been, like, friends since-, umm, for-“

“Since my 20th birthday party?” I ask, smiling as Lee nods and tries not to cry- clearly the memory of my actions following that party are still raw for him.

“Yeah,” Lee says with a nod. “But that- never mind. The question is, how did YOU come to see the photo?”

“Umm, when Laura liked it too,” I reply, before sighing and realising I can’t hide the truth any longer. “…Though I’d also seen it earlier today, shortly after I got up.”

“Shortly after you got out of bed from your current girlfriend, you were ogling a photo of your ex?” Lee asks, grunting with frustration as I nod. “Mate, seriously, you’ve been a man long enough to know there is shit that you just don’t do.”

“I know, I know,” I groan.

“Are you still interested in Chloe?” Lee asks.

“I don’t WANT to be, for what it’s worth,” I reply.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’ ” Lee sighs. “Why, exactly? Considering all the hassle she’s put you through? And don’t give me ‘I still love her,’ you’re smarter than that, too.”

“I- ugh,” I say, before sighing. “I don’t want to be interested in Chloe, I really don’t. What she did, especially with Mac — most of my head just wants to say ‘fuck her’ and forget all about her. Leanne’s much- well, much better in every way that matters.”

“And here comes the ‘but’…” Lee says with yet another sigh.

“…But,’ ” I say with a tired snort. “Leanne- ugh. It was- it was my birthday, when Chloe dropped round.”

“With the least appropriate birthday card of all time?” Lee asks. “You didn’t even SEE the front of the card, though? Unless you got some Sellotape and rummaged through the bin after-“

“No- no I didn’t, and the card had nothing to do with it,” I interrupt. “It was- it was Jacinta.”

“…Are you SERIOUSLY blaming this on Jacinta?” Lee asks incredulously. “Probably the closest thing you have to a big sister?”

“Before the party, she- she told me that she ran into Chloe on her way home,” I say. “And told her to stay out of my life permanently.”

“Like I said, big sister,” Lee says. “Not that it had any effect, as a few weeks later Chloe actually asked ME out…”

“…What?” I ask. “And you- you didn’t feel the need to tell me about this?”

“Not when I also told her to fuck off,” Lee replies. “Especially as she wasn’t interested in me at all, she was obviously trying to use me as, I dunno, a stepping stone to get back with you. Which I’m not going to let happen.”

“And there it is again,” I say, earning a frown from my best friend. “Making the decision for me.”

“You don’t exactly have a great track record of thinking straight when it comes to Chloe,” Lee says.

“I don’t have a great track record of being allowed to think for myself at all,” I retort, before sighing as my friend’s frown deepens. “…Okay. You never knew ‘Kayleigh-Ann’ so I get you might not have, like, first-hand memories of it, but- yeah. Imagine having every second of your life dictated to you. What to do, what to wear….”

“…Sounds a bit like childhood to me, but go on,” Lee says as I bite my lip and try not to cry — he does have a point from what I’ve said so far.

“What to say, how to behave…” I continue, taking a deep breath as I see that what I’m saying isn’t having the desired impact- at least, not yet. “…What to think. How to feel. Who to be friends with. Imagine having every second of not just your present, but future mapped out in detail and having no say whatsoever. Not being allowed to choose for myself. Not being allowed to THINK for myself. Not even being allowed to be sad. All thanks to a mother who treated you like a doll, a project rather than a child. And having a father who never saw you, only saw the expenses coming out of his bank account. And a grandmother so stuck in the past it’d almost be funny if she wasn’t such a cunt.” I take another deep breath as Lee looks at the floor, no longer able to look me in my tear-streaked eyes.

“Your paternal grandmother?” Lee whispers.

“The dead one, yes,” I mumble. “Imagine then that your only source of support being over a hundred miles away, and the one friend you do make only sees you as a quick way to get laid, because as far as the entire world is concerned, you’re a girl, when deep down, you know you’re not.”

“…Okay,” Lee whispers after pausing to take in what I’ve said. “But here’s the main difference between your family and your friends: your family were only thinking of themselves. We’re only thinking of you. Okay, so I never met ‘Kayleigh-Ann.’ None of your true friends did. None of us NEEDED to. Because we care about ‘Ian’ and only ‘Ian.’ And sometimes we need to stop you from making a mistake that there’s no coming back from. God knows I’ve done THAT more than once….” That’s for certain, I think to myself as a sense of shame fills my body.

“…Some of my friends did know ‘Kayleigh-Ann,’ for what it’s worth,” I say. “Laura, for starters, we- we went to the same dance class, hard as that is to imagine now, heh.”

“Okay,” Lee says. “So you’re telling me that the girliest girl you know, who is straighter than an arrow, knew ‘Kayleigh-Ann’ and still eagerly bonked ‘Ian’s brains out?”

“I wouldn’t go THAT far,” I mumble. “But- okay, point taken. I get that I needed to hear that, I get that people making decisions for me isn’t always a bad thing. And- heh. I get that I’ve screwed up my chances with Leanne and I can look forward to single life for the foreseeable future.”

“She does like you a lot, you know?” Lee asks. “Leanne, obviously, not Chloe, she can get fucked. By someone else, like.”

“Used to like me,” I retort. “She- I dunno. She has this weird inferiority complex when it comes to Chloe, like she can’t measure up or something. Laura, too.”

“You still being interested in Chloe can’t help,” Lee says.

“Probably not,” I sigh. “One thing’s for certain: Even if we weren’t in the middle of a pandemic, I’m not going to find another girl interested in- well, a ‘guy like me’ for a long time.”

“Well, I’m not going to comment there,” Lee says. “Only that if memory serves, wasn’t it your friends who set you up with Leanne?”

“She’s Reuben and Keith’s cousin, which means two more bridges burnt,” I reply.

“…Never mind what I was about to say, then,” Lee sighs. “Except this bit of advice — and I do mean ‘advice’ and not ‘instruction.’ Feel free to ignore, but- probably not a good idea if you did, like.”

“Go on,” I say tiredly.

“Apologise to Leanne,” Lee says. “Even if it was an accident and technically Laura’s fault, an apology’s always a good place to start, and, well, we’re the guys, so we do the apologising. Block Chloe on Facebook. You should’ve done THAT months ago. And talk to your counsellor about this this first opportunity you get, as I’m not a counsellor and no offence, but I’m really missing the company of robots right now.”

“…Fair enough,” I sigh.

“Call, don’t text,” Lee says. “Leanne, I mean. Give it the personal touch.”

“Will do,” I say, getting my phone out and heading to my bedroom. “When are you calling Sarah’s brother again?”

“…Shit, five minutes ago,” Lee says. “Meh, he’ll live. Are- are you okay?”

“I’ll let you know after I talk to Leanne,” I reply, my cheeks starting to burn as I realise that what I haven’t told Lee is that I’ve been secretly thinking about Chloe for weeks — his reaction to THAT wouldn’t be as ‘considerate’ as his advice to me. God knows what Leanne’s reaction would be- though I can safely guess that Chloe’s reaction would be positive, to put it mildly.

However, as I remind myself, Chloe isn’t my girlfriend — at least, not anymore. We split up for a very good reason, and if even if she wants to get back together, I don’t. Or at least, I know in my head that we shouldn’t. I sigh as I sit down on the edge of my bed and bring up Leanne’s number in my address book — Lee’s right when he says that I need to apologise, but on the other hand, Leanne did say that I shouldn’t contact her. Or rather, that I shouldn’t TEXT her. I bite my lip as I wonder whether that ‘loophole’ is something I should take advantage of, before reasoning that doing nothing is probably the worst thing I could do right now. After I press the ‘call’ button, though, I frown with confusion as the call goes straight to voicemail, not even ringing beforehand, meaning that either Leanne has lightning-fast reactions in order to ghost me, her phone is switched off or she’s on another call. The first two are unlikely — after a hard day at work, Leanne is usually too tired to even play Fall Guys with me and Lee, and she is fastidious about keeping her phone charged and switched on, raising the question of: who exactly is she talking to? I gulp as the worst-case scenario enters my mind of Leanne calling her parents and booking herself on a flight back to Canada….

“Hi Leanne, it’s me,” I say after the voicemail beeps. “I- I just wanted to say I’m sorry, that- that photo came up on my phone by accident.” Technically true, I think to myself. “I- I don’t care for Chloe, I don’t even like her, not anymore. I only like you. I- I love you, Leanne. Please call me when you can.” With tears streaming down my cheeks, I end the call and lay back on my bed, letting out a long moan — one that only loudens as I open my eyes to see, on a shelf in the centre of my field of view, the old, battered — especially the legs — stuffed giraffe I’ve owned nearly my whole life. All I want to do right now is stick one of the toy’s legs between my teeth and scream until the anguish goes away, but if I’ve learned anything over the past few years, it’s that the world simply doesn’t work that way. Back when I was a child — a girl, even — I had no say in the direction of my life. Now that I’m a man, I know that if I want something to happen, I have to work to make it happen. After drying my eyes and picking my phone back up, I open Facebook again, where Chloe’s photo is till prominently displayed, only Laura’s earlier ‘like’ has now been joined by a comment.

‘Looking sexy, girlie!’ Laura’s comment reads, and as factually true as her comment might be, I still roll my eyes. After ensuring that I’m not commenting visibly on the post, I compose my reply to my friend.

‘I didn’t know you were friends with my ex?’ I type, tossing my phone (and myself) back onto my bed, before retrieving it mere moments later when I see a video call request come in from the blonde girl.

“Hey,” I say tiredly, not reacting to the look of confusion on my friend’s as always immaculately made-up face.

“Umm… what ‘ex’ are you talking about?” Laura asks, frowning as I sigh at her question.

“Chloe Barnard,” I reply bluntly. “Aka ‘Poison Ivy’.” Unsurprisingly, this changes Laura’s expression from one of confusion to one of shock.

“She- she’s THAT Chloe?” Laura asks, and I genuinely can’t tell if she’s feigning ignorance — she is an actress after all — but I can't see any option other than rolling with it.

“I know for a FACT that you have met her,” I say. “Didn’t know you were THAT close, though.”

“Well- umm, we’re not,” Laura mumbles. “She- ugh. She’s designing costumes for our end-of-year Zoom play, we’ve talked a few times — but only about the play, like — and I thought, you know, just add her as a friend, that sort of thing. We didn’t have any mutual friends, so I didn’t think anything of it — you weren’t even a mutual friend.”

“Do you normally stay Facebook friends with your exes?” I ask.

“…Touche,” Laura concedes. “But- ugh, yeah. Umm… why are you asking me about her, anyway? Especially as you split up, like, before the pandemic?”

“I- I was out on a dinner date with Leanne,” I reply. “I was browsing Facebook, and boom, there was the photo. She- she kinda flipped and went back to her aunt and uncle’s house.”

“Eesh,” Laura grimaces. “Yeah, that- ugh. Are you- are you gonna unfriend me now? Like, to stop that happening again?”

“I don’t want to,” I reply. “I just- ugh. I dunno what the best thing to do even is, I just thought I should, like, tell you what happened and- well, see if you, like, had any advice?” I frown as this request causes a (in my view, inappropriate and unhelpful) smirk to spread across my friend’s face.

“Wait, wait,” Laura says, barely suppressing a giggle. “Are YOU of all people, asking ME, of all people, for advice when it comes to girls?” Despite myself, I can’t help but let out a snort of laughter at what my friend is suggesting.

“Yeah, yeah, point taken,” I sigh. “And- ugh, I dunno. I don’t even know why I messaged you, I mean, my head’s still spinning from the whole Leanne thing and I-“

“Needed someone to take it out on?” Laura asks with an oddly sympathetic smile.

“Needed someone to talk to, I suppose,” I say. “I mean, okay, there’s Lee, but-“

“But you needed someone who- well, was a girl,” Laura interrupts, smiling as I nod. “I really do think sometimes that every guy should have a girl who was, like, just a friend. God knows how much better the world would be if that was the case. Especially if it means there was less transphobia as well.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard similar,” I sigh. “People saying that the whole concept of gender shouldn’t exist, or something like that. I dunno. I like NOT being a girl as much as you like being one, heh. And I really like being WITH girls, too. Both in the friend and the- well, ‘more than friends’ way.”

“I would say ‘BOY,’ but given how much I like being with boys — well, ‘my boy,’ anyway — it’d be a bit hypocritical, heh!” Laura chuckles. “But I totally get where you’re coming from. As for Leanne… I don’t know her that well but the two of you are good for each other, that much is obvious. She probably just needs some time. Have you texted her?”

“Left a voicemail,” I reply.

“Even better,” Laura says with a smile. “And as for Chloe… yeah. Don’t worry about her- well, other than to block her on Facebook, anyway.”

“Would you still have done that favour for her if you’d known she was my ex?” I ask, earning another confused frown from my friend.

“What ‘favour?’ ” Laura asks. “The play costumes? She actually applied for that, like, through university. I think it’s her and four or five other students from the London College of Fashion who are making them. She’s actually really talented when it comes to costumes — well, ‘Poison Ivy’ is proof of that, heh.”

“Yeah, we went to a couple of comic-cons in costume when we were still going out,” I muse. “Even put together a costume for me as the Eleventh Doctor while she went as Amy Pond.”

“Matt Smith and Karen Gillan?” Laura- who I’m not sure has even watched a full episode of Doctor Who- asks, smiling as I nod. “Leanne’s a — and I mean this as a compliment — nerd too, isn’t she?”

“In as much as she loves shows like Star Trek, Doctor Who and Star Wars, sure,” I reply. “We recently finished binge-watching the 2003 Battlestar Galactica series, which is actually really good if you’ve never seen it.”

“Not quite my thing,” Laura says with a wink. “Have you been to any comic-cons together?”

“Given that we only started going out last summer, not really,” I reply, earning a nod from my friend — even she knows that comic-cons haven’t been a thing since then due to the pandemic. “She wouldn’t be into the whole costume thing either, though. She’s the type of girl who hates wearing skirts, heels and make-up and played rugby in high school, yet is somehow still really feminine.”

“We women come in loads of different varieties, all unique and awesome,” Laura says with a wink and a giggle. “And we have a knack for identifying good guys, and trust me, you’re definitely one of the better ones. Give Leanne some time. She’ll reach out.”

“Thanks,” I whisper. “I guess I- I guess I just needed to hear that. And I needed a friend, heh.”

“I’m always here whenever you need one of those,” Laura says with a smile. “But if you don’t mind, I’ve still got my dancewear on —“ Laura pauses to stretch one of her legs high above her head to show that she’s still wearing her dance tights from earlier — “and my boyfriend hasn’t seen it yet, hehe!”

“Okay, okay, hint taken,” I chuckle. “Take care, stay safe!”

“You too,” Laura says with a smirk, before ending the call and leaving me to my own devices once again. After checking to see whether or not Leanne’s replied to my voicemail, which she hasn’t, I toss my phone back on my bed and think about what I need to do next.

It doesn’t take long for me to realise that there is, of course, nothing I can do next but wait for Leanne to get back to me. With Lee still busy in the living room, and not wanting to bother Stuart (he has enough on his plate with the adoption), I let out a long sigh and get back to my coursework, hoping to distract myself from my worries by being too busy to notice.

Thankfully, this not only distracts me from my girl problems, but because I don’t finish until well after 11pm, I end up getting a lot of work done. However, despite being tired, I barely sleep through the night as I’m up and down checking my phone all throughout the night for any reply from Leanne — which, of course, never comes.

The following day passes in a blue as between coursework, gaming and seemingly endless talk of the new European Super League, I keep myself so distracted that I don’t have time to think about the Leanne situation — though that doesn’t stop me from checking my phone every few minutes, of course.

Thursday, however, proves to be a very different day as I’m required to actually be in university rather than learn from home, which for once is the reverse of Lee’s day. All throughout the tube ride to university, I stare at my phone — which I realise doesn’t distinguish me from any of the other passengers, but it’s unlikely that any of them are desperately waiting for a call or a message from their (hopefully not) ex-partners.

The actual day at university passes by in a flash as I engross myself in my work, but once I’m back on the tube home, I find myself desperately staring at my phone again, hoping for any reply to my message. I receive my answer, however, when I return home to see Leanne’s car parked on the kerb outside our flat. With my hands shaking and my breath catching in my mouth, I enter the flat, where I try to remain quiet as Lee listens to his lecture, only briefly looking up to smile sympathetically at me and gesture to my bedroom. That’s it, then, I think to myself. She’s come to collect her stuff….

After taking off my coat and my shoes, I gently knock on the door to my bedroom, only to receive no response. I take a deep breath as I open the door, only for my breath to catch in my mouth as I suddenly feel a lump of hard plastic jammed into the side of my neck.

“Resistance is futile,” Leanne says- though unlike her usual quiet, mousy voice, this voice is deep and assertive- but still unmistakably hers.

“L- Leanne?” I ask, almost afraid to turn around.

“Incorrect,” Leanne says firmly. “My designation is Seven of Nine, tertiary adjunct of unimatrix zero-one.” I slowly turn round to see a replica of a Next Generation-era Star Trek phaser pointed in my face by the blonde woman, who looks VERY different from when I last saw her. Her hair is tied into a severe French braid, her face and left hand are adorned with the silver-coloured prosthetics worn by the same Star Trek Voyager character, and her entire body is covered by a catsuit that looks about two sizes too small and leaves virtually nothing to the imagination. “…But you may call me Seven of Nine.” I yelp as ‘Seven’ roughly shoves me back onto my bed, before sitting down next to me, clearly trying not to blush and/or giggle.

“Okay…” I say uncertainly as I try not to giggle myself. “Le- umm, ‘Seven’, to what do I owe the pleasure?” I bite my lip as ‘Seven’ lets out a quiet giggle, but even this action causes her to hold her side and fidget uncomfortably.

“Umm…” Leanne replies, having clearly not thought this far ahead in her ‘roleplay.’ “Captain Janeway has asked me to take you into custody and- umm, interrogate you.”

“Okay…” I repeat, before sniggering and causing Leanne to laugh and completely break character as well.

“Stop making me laugh!” Leanne chastises me. “Underneath this thing I’m wearing this weird corset bodysuit thing that’s trying to squeeze all of my organs out of my butt, and the tightness of this catsuit is the only thing keeping them inside!”

“Sorry, sorry,” I chuckle, before sighing. “And I- I’m sorry again about the Facebook thing. It-“

“It’s all been explained,” Leanne whispers. “L- Laura Ruddock of all people messaged me to explain. I know you didn’t deliberately look at that photo of Chloe.” I try not to fidget as I’m unknowingly called out about my lingering feelings for Chloe, even if I genuinely didn't want to look at the photo. However, I know that if I keep this secret, it’ll hang over me for the rest of my relationship with Leanne — if not the rest of my life.

“Not at that time, no,” I say, holding back tears as Leanne’s face immediately falls. “I- I won’t lie to you, Leanne. I don’t want to still, like, feel anything for Chloe. But I- yeah. You knew even before you met me that I- I’m not, well, ‘right in the head.’ I- ugh. I spent my entire childhood having to pretend to be a gender my head told me I wasn’t, and my entire adult life 'pretending' to be a gender my body tells me I’m not. I had no choice, no decisions… And then at Christmas, at my birthday, my friends ‘chose’ you for me. And even I know that you’re the right choice- ugh. It’s not fair on you. And if you want to- to end things, then I- I’ll understand.”

“…I wouldn’t be sat here dressed in this if I wanted to end things, Ian,” Leanne says, her voice quavering with emotion. “And you- you’re not ‘messed up’. You’ve had- you’ve struggled, and other people haven’t made it easy for you — Chloe being one of them. If you say that you don’t want to feel anything for her, then I- I believe you. And I- I want to be with you. But I- I don’t know. I don’t want to be, you know, ‘second place.’ ”

“You ARE first place,” I say firmly. “I- I’d ask you to trust me, but- yeah. I’m not sure I’D trust me right now, heh. But there- there is something I can do.” Leanne frowns with confusion as I take my phone out of my pocket and open up Facebook, browsing to Chloe’s profile. Her frown soon turns into a smile, though, when I press the ‘block’ button, cutting my ex out of my life forever. And I mean forever — having nearly lost the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time, I have no intention of ruining it by obsessing over what might have been.

“Thank you,” Leanne whispers, before leaning forward for a kiss, only for her to stop before reaching my lips.

“Leanne?” I whisper anxiously.

“…Damned corset,” Leanne grumbles as she fidgets about, still trying to get comfortable.

“Why ARE you dressed like that, anyway?” I ask.

“To show you that it’s not just Chloe who can be sexy in a costume,” Leanne replies, before blushing at what she just said. “Even if I did buy this rather than make it, hence why it’s been a few days since- well, yeah. Also, I changed here instead of driving in it, THAT would’ve been a thing to explain. And — well, this sounds silly, but — but Seven of Nine has always been, like, an idol of mine. She was someone who had the most abusive upbringing imaginable, who was forcibly cut off from the only support network she’d ever known, yet was not only sexy, but smart, confident… and she wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable at times either.”

“And was a total badass in Picard, too,” I add.

“I seriously hope I look as good as Jeri Ryan does when I’m fifty, heh,” Leanne chuckles.

“For what it’s worth, at twenty-two you’re the hottest woman in the world,” I say, leaning in to give the blonde woman a slow, soft kiss as she remains still. “I’d like- I’d like to go back to the way things were, before- heh. Before I messed everything up.”

“I’d like that too,” Leanne says, though her emphasis on the word ‘like’ makes my stomach churn. “But I- I think I should probably go back home for now. Like- to my aunt and uncle’s, not Montreal, heh!”

“I was about to say,” I retort, smirking as Leanne gives me a shove. “Though you, you know, don’t have to go immediately, we could, like, have that dinner date we interrupted on Tuesday?”

“Not dressed like this I can’t!” Leanne chuckles, before clutching her side again. “Even if I didn’t die of embarrassment, I think my stomach’s been squashed down to the size of a pea, heh.”

“So would you like a hand out of that thing?” I offer with a sly grin that makes my girlfriend giggle again.

“GOD yes,” Leanne says, turning around to give me access to the zip on her back, which puts up a lot of resistance as I try to pull it downwards. Though this does at least give me an opportunity to feel just how the catsuit feels on Leanne's body — on the pretense of finding a place to hold on to get purchase on the zip, of course.

“Mmm, soft,” I say as I run my hands over the tight fabric until Leanne playfully swats my hand away. “How did you even get into this thing, anyway?”

“Slowly and with a lot of swearing,” my girlfriend replies. “I hope it was worth it, though.”

“Totally,” I chuckle. “Even if I would’ve liked a picture or two.” I smirk as Leanne sighs and gestures for me to zip her back up (which I do after a bit of effort), before standing up and posing with her phaser as I photograph her.

“Do NOT upload those to Facebook,” Leanne cautions me, making me smirk — she really couldn’t be any more different to Chloe, or any better than her either.

“As if I would,” I retort. “I’m keeping you all for myself, heh — just like I’m nobody’s but yours!” This is more than enough to satisfy Leanne, who continues to pose for my camera until she declares that she has truly had enough of the costume and insists that I help her out of it- which I’m more than willing to do, of course.

After changing back into her preferred blouse and jeans, Leanne stuffs the corset and the catsuit (both of which take up a lot less space than I was expecting) into her handbag, before we both put our shoes and coats on and head back to the food truck we went to on Tuesday, only this time, we do end up enjoying our meal. I even allow myself a little smirk as, while Leanne uses the toilet, I check Facebook only to be greeted by a photo of a leotard-clad girl — only this time it’s posted by Stuart and is of his and Jamie’s 4-year-old daughter, in the middle of her video dance lesson. Naturally, unlike Chloe or Laura’s photos, I leave a ‘like’ on this one. As well as the photo of Jacinta’s latest baked masterpiece, and the photo of the very fancy-looking asymmetric dress modelled by Nikki and posted by Sarah.

At the end of the dinner date, I once again head back to my flat while Leanne returns to her aunt and uncle’s home, only this time, we part with a kiss and the promise that we will see each other again soon. When I return home, I immediately grab the stuffed giraffe from the shelf above my bed and give it a quick cuddle before sitting it on my pillow as I finish my coursework for the following day. Sure, my relationship with Leanne has had a setback, but it’s far from the biggest setback I’ve ever had in my life, and sometimes the old saying is true that you have to take one step back to take three forward. I know that my friends only have my best interests at heart — after all, they love me for who I am just as much as I love them for who they are, and I am going to trust in that — and in them — going forward. I just wish I could trust that Chloe will get the hint and stay out of my life for good…